


In The Weeping of The Rain

by TheWaffleBat



Series: So Stand Stricken [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Amnesia, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Sorry Link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 02:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17337179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWaffleBat/pseuds/TheWaffleBat
Summary: The waterbed wobbled and rippled - Muzu pulled Link’s hands back down, and there was something soft and kind in Muzu’s eyes, something almost like sympathy. “Prince Sidon told me that you loved each other very much,” He said softly, folding his hands in his lap and looking down at them. “He said… He said that he’d never seen her so happy with anyone. Do you remember that?”“I don’t know,” Said Link, hating himself for saying it but not willing to lie, not about most things and definitely not about this. Not to Muzu, who Sidon had said was an uncle in all but blood.Grief for Mipha after Vah Ruta calms, in two people who knew her.





	In The Weeping of The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Edna St. Vincent Millay's _Time Does Not Bring Relief_

Link came down from Vah Ruta in a daze, ears still ringing from the fight and his chest feeling too full and too empty at the same time, all his limbs trembly and weak. Only the gentle, suffusing warmth in his chest kept him going, but even Mipha’s gentle, caring soul faded fast and he slammed hard into the floor of Dorophean’s throne room. He remembered her, enough to feel his throat close and his tongue to ache with the tears he wanted to squash down and _goddesses_ , how could he have ever forgotten her? How could he have forgotten the ache in his chest when they were apart, the pull that always drew him back to her even with… even with…

A handful of attendants summoned from the depths of the palace helped him to his feet, held him upright when he passed out for a moment. “Sire,” Said the one while Sidon fussed anxiously, hands fluttering, cool when they pressed against Link’s forehead. “Perhaps it can wait? He needs rest.”

No, no, Link wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink, not with the weird, foreign soul settled warmly against his, filling empty corners he didn’t even know were there. “He needs _healing_ ,” Said the other Zora, fins ruffling anxiously around his head. “Sir,” He said plaintively when Link tried to shove him away and stand on his own, because he was _fine_ , he was _fine_ , would they _stop fussing_ over him, he was just… Mipha was just there, floating at his edges and still loving him even though he’d _failed_ her, and Link needed to sit down on the steps leading to the infirmary a moment, just a moment, just…

A healer, kind-faced and old, pushed him into a water bed and peeled away his armour. He clucked disapprovingly when he found that blood had turned tacky and stuck the tunic to his skin; let it smack wetly to floor and turned his face to Link’s, gentle as he poked and prodded the wounds and cleaned the skin around them. Antiseptic stung in all his cuts, bright and sharp, but the healer numbed it before he started sewing Link back together.

“There!” Said the zora, handing Link an old but clean tunic to put on, its sleeves too short and the hem too long. He sat back, pleased with his own handiwork, the stitches neater than anything Link did to himself. “You’re to stay a week at least,” He said, suddenly disapproving, “You nearly killed yourself paragliding to the throne room - couldn’t you have used that slate?”

Link took it out and stared at its gleaming screen. He’d forgotten all about it.

The healer sighed, and waved the things Link didn’t say away. “No matter, you’ll live.” He sounded almost petulant, like he knew that Link would stay safe for the week because he had to and then he’d go right back into flinging himself into danger. Link shuffled guiltily, because he never _meant_ to do harm to himself, it was just that sometimes there were Lizalfos he didn’t see or moblins’ clubs swinging at him and he had to pick head or chest and decided chest, and then was launched down a hill. There were Guardians roaming around, active and bleeping and he didn’t know _why_ but they _terrified him_ , so he’d rather jump into chasms than try to fight them.

“Rest,” Said the healer kindly, heaving himself to his feet with a click of his knees. He left Link alone, said, “Food will be brought along soon,” as he shuffled out through the archway.

-:-

Muzu came to see him, which was odd enough that Link took notice of it; he hesitated before each step, and it was hard to tell with how wide-set they were but Link thought his eyes were nervously watching the wolf at the end of the bed in case it leapt up to attack. Link didn’t think he would - he knew what Wolf was like when he didn’t like something, and other than his eyes following Muzu back, his ears flattened against his head but no growl rumbling through his throat, there wasn’t anything threatening in him.

“Link,” Said the old zora, coming to a stop next to him and looking out across the water with him. “I am… sorry, for how I’ve treated you. How all of us have treated you. It was unfair of us.”

Link shrugged, said nothing; gave Wolf an affectionate scratch behind the ears because it meant very little to him, the apology and the disgust and the final realisation that if he could have Link would have gone back in time to save Mipha in a heartbeat. He didn’t care; he was used to it, remembering in fits and starts the nobles who hid sneers behind their hands for his common blood, his unusually short, delicate stature for a soldier, the knights who laughed openly because Link preferred not to speak, only listen. He didn’t care.

He hugged himself. It didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.

There were cranes swooping through the light of the setting sun, splashing through the shallows to fish. They plucked them from the water and for a moment Link envied them - hated them - because he wanted to scoop out his memories the same way they did trout, wanted to have everything returned to him because otherwise he felt so fucking _lost_ all the time, never knowing who was who and if he was meant to know them or not or a small hillock being vaguely familiar for absolutely no reason at all.

Link put his head in his hands, trying not to watch them and trying to drag something out of that big, yawning pit in his head; reaching for memories in a way that felt like reaching for food in a shadowed cupboard, groping uselessly until his fingers caught on something, only it was too dark to see what he pulled out and only luck and familiar things told him what it was, and mostly not even then. He didn’t remember _so much_ of Mipha, just knew that now, at least, he had a face to put to the big, empty wound carved on his heart that ached dully, numbly.

The waterbed wobbled and rippled - Muzu pulled Link’s hands back down, and there was something soft and kind in Muzu’s eyes, something almost like sympathy. “Prince Sidon told me that you loved each other very much,” He said softly, folding his hands in his lap and looking down at them. “He said… He said that he’d never seen her so happy with anyone. Do you remember that?”

“I don’t know,” Said Link, hating himself for saying it but not willing to lie, not about most things and definitely not about this. Not to Muzu, who Sidon had said was an uncle in all but blood.

He _didn’t_ know, about anything. He knew her face, her kindness, her laugh that was sweet as the flowers in the castle gardens, her smile that was a shark’s grin but happy, her cutting-sharp, triangular teeth not so much frightening as a part of her the way her fins were part of her. He knew she had taught him to laugh, taught him to want to speak even if that wanting was just for her. He knew that he’d had many kisses with other people before her, had sex with other people before her, but that their first kiss was something that eclipsed all of those; her hand soft on his jaw despite her claws and scales and the little cuts she couldn’t help giving him, her mouth softer than he’d thought it would be, kissing not a perfunctory thing in the lead to fucking, but a simple delight on its own.

That he loved her as he’d loved few others, but he didn’t know who those few others were to say if it was more than them or not, or if it was just a different kind of love.

Muzu nodded, twisting his fingers together. “So she really is lost to us.”

Link looked away from him, the part of him that was Mipha and the part of his heart that was too big for its own good hurting in sympathy because now he _understood_ , he _understood_ why Muzu had hated him, hadn’t wanted his help; he liked to think he wouldn’t have done the same, wouldn’t have hated an entire race for one death, but he knew that the pain of loss would make him into something less than what he was; less able to care, maybe.

But he couldn’t say nothing, pretending she wasn’t still on Vah Ruta and waiting for him to fight Ganon. Nothing he said would make it right, would take away the tear ripped through the zora, but maybe it could make those edges a little less jagged, a little less painful. “I saw her,” He said, felt Muzu’s head snap to attention. “She’s… at peace.”

“She’s...” Said Muzu faintly, and Link looked back over to him to see his eyes had closed, head bowed to her memory. He cleared his throat. “I’m… glad. Thank you. Excuse me,” He added, standing abruptly to leave. Clouds overhead, remnants of Vah Ruta's rampaging, opened; it started to rain.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short one-shot because god I love Breath of the Wild.
> 
>  _EDIT_ , fixed up a typo and now a part of a series! Decided I had more torturing Link to do.


End file.
